


Trust in Us

by allyoop_1



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Baseball, Because Derek Worries Too Much, Cutesy, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, Love Confessions, M/M, New York City, New York Mets, One Shot, but he has a good heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:48:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop_1/pseuds/allyoop_1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles get caught in the rain and Derek may have a minor meltdown because he's a bit of a perfectionist. Don't worry, though. Stiles is there to snap him out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust in Us

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write cheesy fluff. Sorry not sorry.

“C’mon Stiles, I paid a lot for these tickets.” Derek is pushing his way through the crowded street, the younger man meandering along behind him. “They’re front row seats and I’d actually like to use them.”

He huffs as he turns back, finding Stiles examining some Alpaca-hair mittens being pawned off by a street vendor. “Look at this, Der.” Stiles holds up a pair of forest green mittens, amber eyes twinkling in the dismal sunlight peeking down through the clouds. “Would bring out your eyes.”

Derek barely resists the urge to growl at him. “Stiles, forget about the Goddamn gloves; we have somewhere to be, remember?”

Stiles only smirks his response and lays the mittens down “Gee Derek, don’t give yourself an aneurism.” He chuckles lightly to himself, mumbling, “Telling my werewolf boyfriend he’ll get an aneurism. I think I just became Bella Swan for a moment.”

Derek sighs. Stiles is full of these little pop-culture references that he knows Derek will never understand. Derek usually humors him by playing along, but today he has neither the time nor the patience to deal with Stiles’ rambling.

Derek glances skyward and can’t help but discern the dark rolling sky as a menacing omen. He pulls his royal blue baseball cap lower on his forehead and steers Stiles quickly through the streets, the younger man still trying to stop and examine all the vendors they pass by. They finally catch sight of the vast stadium at the end of the street and Derek sighs in relief, only to see a flash of white-hot lightning cut across the sky.

Stiles lifts his face to the sky and frownsbefore meeting Derek’s eyes. “Do you think we’ll be rained out?”

Derek’s heart stutters in his chest, but he puts on a stern face and says, “Of course not. It probably won’t even drizzle.”

Stiles cocks an eyebrow at him and then laughs when a crack of thunder causes Derek to visibly wince. “Whatever you say, Hot Stuff.”

Derek’s about to snark back when he feels the first raindrop hit his nose. Stiles snickers as his eyes cross, trying to follow the offending droplet as it slides down the bridge of his nose and beads there at the tip. He can tell Stiles has a joke and a half already on the tip of his tongue when the heavens decide to open their gates and start a downpour. All along the street, people shriek as they try to avoid what feels like walls of rain sweeping across the street. Even with his advanced vision, Derek can only make out the outline of Stiles’ form right in front of him. Well, New York never did do anything halfway.

Derek’s heart sinks when the full reality of the situation sinks in. There’s no way the game will go on in this weather. It’ll be rescheduled, and Stiles and Derek will already have returned home to California by the time anyone actually plays. He wants to hit himself for fucking yet another thing up. And something so important, too. God, he’ll never get it right, will he?

The rain decides to let up slightly, and Derek can finally see Stiles in front of him. He’s shaking and Derek starts to reach out and comfort him, but then realizes that Stiles is shaking in laughter. He’s fucking _laughing_. He’s so far gone he’s almost bent over in hysterics. All of Derek’s anger boils to the surface and he can’t help but throw his hands in the air and rage, “Why the fuck are you laughing? If you can’t tell, they’re going to cancel the game! We’re going to miss it, Stiles! Do you not get it?” A bout of thunder in the background seems to be agreeing with him.

Stiles is trying to bring himself back from the edge. He’s clutching his gut, small giggles still making an effort to escape and escalate into full-blown hysterics again. “Der, calm down. It’s just a game.”

“It’s not just a game, it’s…” Derek sighs and turns from Stiles, resigned. “Never mind. Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

“Derek, wait!” Stiles jumps in front of Derek, his eyes clouded with confusion. “I don’t understand. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Derek tries to turn away, but Stiles just moves with him. He sighs. He’s never able to resist giving into the younger man. Especially when a stray raindrop gets caught in one of his long eyelashes.

“It’s just,” Derek growls in frustration. “It’s just that today was supposed to be special, and I wanted us to be together and for everything to just _work_ for once in our lives, and for you to be happy, because, fuck Stiles, you deserve to be so, so happy and I just wanted not to ruin everything like I always seem to do and the Mets are your fucking favorite and I just. Fuck, I just wanted this to work.” He cuts off with a sharp inhale and resolutely stares at the ground. He will not start crying his frustrations out while standing next to some shady taxidermy shop in the middle of a dirty New York street, he will not.

Distantly, he feels long fingers circle his wrist and squeeze tightly. More fingers tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet large, searching eyes. Stiles doesn’t look angry, doesn’t look disappointed in Derek at all, and Derek feels himself start to hope.

“Derek, you are such an idiot.” And all the hope comes crashing down. At Derek’s dejected but accepting expression, Stiles rushes to continue. “No, wait, listen. You’re an idiot because today _is_ special. You planned out a whole fucking trip to come to New York just because you thought it would make me happy. You booked us a room in a super snazzy hotel, took me to all the little touristy things even though you hate people, and you got us tickets to my favorite baseball team. Dude, you _hate_ the Mets.” Stiles smiles incredulously. “Derek, you didn’t ruin _anything._ It was all perfect. You’re perfect.” Resolve steels in his eyes and Derek prepares for whatever he’s about to say. “And I love you.”

Derek had been staring at Stiles’ collarbone throughout his speech, too embarrassed to look Stiles in the eye, but his eyes snap up at the declaration. Stiles is biting his bottom lip nervously, but he isn’t taking what he said back. Derek feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Would it be too cliché if I kissed you in the rain?”

Stiles laughs, but surges forward to catch Derek’s lips with his own. Derek wraps the younger man tightly in his arms, not wanting even an inch between them. Stiles is leaning into the kiss as if he feels the same way, fingers grasping hard at the hairs growing on the nape of his neck. The water soaking his entire body is freezing, but Stiles’ mouth is warm and familiar and Derek never wants to let go.

As the sky opens up again and Stiles pulls away laughing, Derek can only press a grin into Stiles’ neck. He may never be able to fully trust himself to do the right thing by Stiles, but Stiles does and Derek can trust in that. Derek can always trust in that.

**Author's Note:**

> Confession time: I’ve never actually been to the Mets stadium, but I did go to New York once when it was raining and Derek is right, NYC does nothing halfway.


End file.
